


interlude1

by FullMetamorphosis



Series: The Empire's Weapon [5]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Eldritch, Gault is Very Scared, The Force, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Transformation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-24 11:59:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14355000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FullMetamorphosis/pseuds/FullMetamorphosis
Summary: Gault doesn’t make it a habit to intrude on people - on the contrary, he’s much more used to being unseen or else the man in charge. He’s the manipulator, the Galaxy’s Greatest Liar - and yet he’s never supposed to be the one caught in a bind.At least, not usually.





	interlude1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: this is an interlude in my series The Empire's Weapon. This piece, as a result, requires context from past chapters to be understood to its full degree.

Gault doesn’t make it a habit to intrude on people - on the contrary, he’s much more used to being unseen or else the man in charge. He’s the manipulator, the Galaxy’s Greatest Liar (apart from that Republic bitch who got shot up a few years ago - cunt deserved it) - and yet he’s never supposed to be the one caught in a bind. At least, not  _usually_.

He’s still rubbing his aching cheek as he wanders through the halls to the sparring rooms. He’s not sure what he’s looking for, but Gault sure needs something  _other_  than being in the Spy Network rooms. Getting slapped by Hylo wasn’t exactly pleasant, even if he’d kinda deserved it for bothering her. Still, he bothers at the redder make she’d left, grossly wondering if he could make her apologize for it later.

(She wouldn’t. They’re both too stubborn. Even if he doesn’t want to admit he was being the asshole.)

He figures he can make it up to her, at least. She’d left her blaster in one of the sparring rooms, or so she’d said, and hadn’t had the time to pick it up. And Gault was pretty sure which room, too - the one they’d gotten a little, ahem, freaky in the other week. The door’s closed, but he doesn’t necessarily care. He just opens the door, struts in-

-and his *goddamn Commander is levitating in mid air.* Eyes wide open, hair spiraling around their face, arms stretched over their head and hands clutching their lightsabers. Static is crashing around them. Their body jerks spasticly. Their mouth is open, like they’re trying to  _scream_.

 _Run, you stupid bastard!_ , he tries to tell himself, except he’s pinned in place, watching the Commander as if in a trance, and then his common sense tries to pick through his layer of outright terror as he tries to walk forward and say something.

“Hey there, Commander, you-!”

His whole body gets the wind knocked from it, and the breath is pulled from his lungs, and then he’s on the floor coughing. His spine hurts so bad it’s like being run over by a bantha. When he looks up, the Commander is gasping on the floor, back to him, lightsabers several feet away on the floor. They still look like they’re sparking. The whole room is in such disarray that he realizes it - that they’d knocked everything into the nearby walls with the damn Force, including him and his aching back.

They continue to gasp for breath, and finally turn over quickly. They meet eyes, and the Commander’s go wide.

… this is the opportune moment to run like all hell.

“ _Gault_! No, come back, don’t-!” they scramble up to catch him before he can get up and to the door. They grab him by the shoulders, and he’s forced to look them in their bleeding red eyes. “Gault, I’m so sorry! I didn’t- please, you can’t tell anybody, got it?! Nobody, not even the advisers. This is our little secret, okay?”

“I don’t like those odds,” Gault answers. He tries to rip himself free. They hold on tight with almost superhuman strength.

“I’ll double your pay! Anything! Just don’t fucking tell anybody!” they look at him with even wider eyes. “Please?”

Double pay? For  _this_?

“Okay, I- fine,  _fine_ , just let me go!”

They do. They let him go, and he races out of the room like a fucking missile was after him. He slams the door shut behind him and leans against the back of it, trying to catch his breath.

Double pay. Delightful. He could live with that.

But Gault isn’t sure he can live with that scene, with the Commander’s usually-pale hands roiling and burning with skin a molten  _black,_  and eyes devoid of all color.


End file.
